


Ire et Luce

by ifdragonscouldtalk



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves Friendship, Gen, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Luther Hargreeves Being an Asshole, The Author Regrets Nothing, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 11:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19150390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifdragonscouldtalk/pseuds/ifdragonscouldtalk
Summary: The “plan,” if it could be called that, was stupid at best and reckless at worst, and Klaus had to wonder why Luther’s number being one meant so much to them anymore, when he kept tearing them apart, when he was exactly like Dad and only cared about himself and Allison. Vanya hadn’t deserved to be locked up like that, and it made Klaus cold to think that he was too fucking scared to do anything about it except give a token argument, because if he had fought he might’ve ended up with that little girl on the bike again, or worse, locked up himself. Vanya didn’t deserve any of what life had given her, didn’t deserve the way they’d treated her in recent years, even if the book she had written was hurtful, and Klaus regretted that he was too out of his mind to even try and talk to her. He had always had more in common with Vanya and Ben than anyone else, but he had almost lost them both.Almost.He was done taking orders from Luther, done helping the man who had left him dead on a club floor in the middle of Nowhere, New York City. He was done being the deadweight, hadn’t been a deadweight in nine months and three weeks now, wondered if he could rely on his siblings as much as he could rely on his brothers in arms.





	Ire et Luce

“You keep watch.”

“Keep watch?” But Luther was already walking away, didn’t have any more time for Klaus now that he had a half-assed plan to implement to the detriment of his siblings. Klaus turned around, throwing his arms out in disgust and staring at Ben, and Ben shrugged at him where he was seated on the table.

The “plan,” if it could be called that, was stupid at best and reckless at worst, and Klaus had to wonder why Luther’s number being one meant so much to them anymore, when he kept tearing them apart, when he was exactly like Dad and only cared about himself and Allison. Vanya hadn’t deserved to be locked up like that, and it made Klaus cold to think that he was too fucking scared to do anything about it except give a token argument, because if he had fought he might’ve ended up with that little girl on the bike again, or worse, locked up himself. Vanya didn’t deserve any of what life had given her, didn’t deserve the way they’d treated her in recent years, even if the book she had written was hurtful, and Klaus regretted that he was too out of his mind to even try and talk to her. He had always had more in common with Vanya and Ben than anyone else, but he had almost lost them both.

Almost.

He was done taking orders from Luther, done helping the man who had left him dead on a club floor in the middle of Nowhere, New York City. He was done being the deadweight, hadn’t been a deadweight in nine months and three weeks now, wondered if he could rely on his siblings as much as he could rely on his brothers in arms.

But he didn’t mind giving orders himself.

“Ben, stay here and lookout, come find me if something happens.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Luther is an idiot, but whatever happens, I can’t just stay out here eating a burrito from the food truck out front. Things have changed.”

“You won’t hear me arguing,” Ben sighed as he jumped off the table, looking him up and down. “Things have definitely changed. Just, stay out of trouble?”

“Oh, Benny, you know I can’t promise that,” Klaus giggled, and then they were walking away from each other. He pushed through the heavy doors into the main floor of the theater, the orchestra music surrounding him instantly, the crowd in captivated silence. Allison was standing in the middle of the isle like a fool, attracting stares, but her body language was loose, and Vanya, with pure white eyes (and Klaus couldn’t help but think she looked _beautiful_ ), had seen her, was smiling slightly at her.

He couldn’t let Luther interrupt this. He had a cold feeling that Vanya was the bomb, but _they_ were all the fuse, not Harold Jenkins. He took a moment to rub his hands over his mouth before he crept back out of the theater and flat out ran to where he knew Luther would be, in the wings to the right of the stage, ready to attack ( _kill_ ) one of their sisters.

“Klaus?” he hissed when he saw him, anger on his face, his fists curling. “Jesus, can you not do _anything_ you’re asked?”

“Luther, listen, this isn’t the way to go about this. Let’s just wait for the performance to end, maybe go out and buy Vanya some flowers, and _apologize_. She’s angry, and hurt, and she has-”

“ _Shut up, Klaus!_ ”

Klaus didn’t have the option to respond, Luther grabbing his vest and practically throwing him, and his head cracked loudly into one of the support beams, feeling himself crumple before everything faded.

He was back in the grayscale forest, staring down the road at the little girl riding towards him. She stopped in front of him, rolling her eyes, and he stared down at her.

“You’re here. In my way. Again.”

“So it seems.”

“Seems like I’m not the only one that doesn’t like you, Klaus Hargreeves. Can you not stay alive for one day?”

“But that would be way too easy!” She stared up at him blankly, and he sighed. “Listen, if you’re going to send me to see dear old Dad again, I would prefer not to, you can send me back right now.”

“No,” she replied. “It is not your father this time. Someone else.” He raised his brows, suspicious this time, but she just pointed at the little shack off the dirt road, and he threw his hands up dramatically before picking his way carefully to it. He glanced back at her one last time before he opened the door, but she didn’t look at him, already riding off to more important duties than dealing with the most disappointing Hargreeves child.

This time he was in the tent they had used as barracks, and he nearly collapsed to his knees. “Dave,” he breathed reverently, felt tears dripping from his lashes as Dave flashed him one of his spine-tingling grins.

“Hey, Klaus,” Dave whispered back, and then they were holding each other, and Klaus couldn’t stop sobbing.

“I- I got clean, Dave, I tried to summon you,” he said earnestly, and Dave smiled at him, like he had hung the sun.

“I know. I’m proud of you, Klaus. We don’t have much time, you need to go back, but... you’re doing the right thing. Standing up for your sister.”

“Thanks. Probably the only good thing I’ve ever done, and it might not even be enough to save the world.”

“You know that’s not true. You did a lot of good, in ‘Nam.”

“Yeah, in a war we never should’ve been fighting, for a cause none of us supported.”

“But we had each other. You saved us, Klaus, just by being the crazy bastard you are. We trusted you.”

“Sometimes -- and isn’t it crazy? -- sometimes, over the last few hours, I thought I would’ve been better off living out the rest of the war with you all. Well, with the rest of them, at least.”

“No. You belong here. But you have to go soon, Klaus. Remember, I believe in you.”

“Kiss for good luck?” Dave laughed, but then they were kissing, sweet and soft and nothing like the wars they had suffered, and all Klaus could do was breathe and reel in his tears.

“Goodbye, Klaus,” Dave breathed against his lips, and Klaus couldn’t open his eyes, wouldn’t, silent sobs shaking his frame. “Hopefully, we’ll see each other again.”

“I love you,” he choked out, like it was a secret, like he was afraid Dave wouldn’t say it back.

“I love you too. Go now.”

He woke up with a gasp, staring up into the dark, hearing screams and gunfire echoing from the stage, muffled by the heavy curtains. He sat up quickly and his vision swam, and not in a good, drug-like way, his hand coming away bloody when he reached up to touch his temple. “ _Shit,_ Luther!”

“Cha-Cha! Klaus, _get up,_ Cha-Cha is coming!” He hadn’t noticed Ben next to him, frantic, trying to touch him but failing with every pass. They met each others’ eyes in fear and then he was on his feet, pushing aside the heavy curtains to dart onto the stage, his head pounding in tempo with his heartbeat, Ben at his heels.

Vanya was on her feet, center stage, and somehow her tux had turned white, hot shockwaves of power pouring off her, all rage and fear and primal instinct. The orchestra pit and audience had cleared out, probably about the same time that the men with the automatics and the gas masks had shown up, who were thoroughly routing his other siblings. He saw Five appear in a flash of blue, and had a split-second to wonder where the hell he had been as he shouted “ _Get down!_ ”, his voice echoing across the empty space like the screech of a broken violin. He was almost shocked when Five immediately obeyed, the seats just above his head exploding into a pile of stuffing as bullets embedded themselves where his chest had just been, and watched his siblings peer around various corners to get a good look at him, Vanya glancing over her shoulder with a glare but not pausing in her concerto. _Klaus?_ he saw Allison mouth, her eyes taking in the blood dripping slow onto his collar in shock, and he wondered if she would connect the dots. She was always the cleverest one of them, after Five.

He had to do something, panic rushing through him. He could feel something pooling in his gut, hot and cold at the same time, writhing, and he wanted to throw up just to get rid of the feeling; instead, he grabbed it with all he had and _pulled_ , laughing hysterically as his hands started to glow, as Ben started to glow too, meeting his eyes. And then the Horror was doing what it did best -- destroying people, viciously. Ben was only just tangible enough to do any damage, screaming in pain and anger, and Klaus was screaming with him, excitement and fear and pain in equal measures, his whole body shaking with effort as he clung to Ben with both hands.

Vanya didn’t seem to mind the tentacles whipping around her, as long as they didn’t come close enough to harm her, and Ben would never have it in him to hurt one of his siblings. Once upon a time, Klaus thought he wouldn’t either. Then things changed, the apocalypse happened, and he ended up hitting Five with more emotion than he let on, and landed in the middle of a war he hadn’t even been alive for, and allowed Vanya to be abandoned in a sound-proof prison in the basement of their fucking prison of a home.

But he didn’t have much more time to think about that, because there was a pain in his gut that had nothing to do with his powers, tangible and tasting of blood, and Diego was screaming as Five and Luther held him back. Vanya’s violin screeched, and suddenly it was too quiet in the room, the sound of his breathing and the blood rushing to his ears too loud, Ben’s face as he turned too much to bear. Klaus looked down. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but a bloody hole center mass was not it. He giggled hysterically, tasting blood and bile on his tongue, as he reached down to cup the wound slowly staining one of his best shirts with shaking hands glowing blue, and was glad Ben was still there as his knees gave out and his incorporeal brother caught him, shouting at him in fear.

His head rolled back against Ben’s arm and he saw Cha-Cha, face raw with road-burn and stuck with glass, eyes hard, gun still smoking. He heard Vanya scream wordlessly, her bow slashing in the air, and Cha-Cha was clutching her throat, sputtering and choking as she collapsed on the stage. Klaus shuddered, only seeing Allison there, with her throat cut and her eyes rolled back, and Vanya was still screaming, angry and terrified and overwhelmed.

“Vanya,” he said, and it might’ve only been a whisper, he couldn’t tell, couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own heartbeat. “Stop, please. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t destroy yourself like this. I know how it feels, but you were always so much better than me. Please.”

Vanya sobbed, collapsing on her knees next to him, pure white eyes roaming over him spastically, as if she was looking for something she could fix with a bowstring and some violin polish. His head rolled against Ben’s shoulder and he noticed he was crying as well, but his arms were steady. Blood was pooling under them, dripping without resistance through Ben’s lap, staining the white knees of Vanya’s tuxedo. Tears were streaming down her face, his sweetest sister, the most wronged out of all of them, and he wanted to touch her but didn’t know if it would be welcomed, especially with his hands lit up like glow sticks. He giggled again, knowing it sounded hysterical, and wondered if he had always been crazy or if it was the ghosts and the drugs and the war that had done it to him.

“You look beautiful,” he told her, and knew his voice was shaking. “Your solo sounded so, so good, V, you really deserved it.”

“Klaus, please,” she said, the first words she had spoken this whole time, and he didn’t know what she meant by the plea. He smiled shakily at her.

“I mean it. I wanted to apologize, for the way we’ve treated you. The way I’ve treated you. You have every right to be angry, and hurt. But, don’t destroy yourself this way. I was never as strong as the rest of you, I gave into that pull, but you are so much stronger than any of us, Vanya.”

“Klaus,” Ben choked out, like his throat was closing up, clearly trying not to cry, and for once Klaus didn’t know what he was trying to say.

The others seemed to finally determine that Vanya wasn’t a threat, right about the time Klaus let out an embarrassing scream as Ben lost what little solidness he had gained through his powers and he crashed to the floor. Vanya flinched, her hands trembling in the air like she wanted to touch but was scared she would hurt him. Klaus’ hands were trembling almost as much, hovering above the wound in his stomach as he blinked burning tears out of his eyes, not wanting to touch it because it would only cause more pain. It was too quiet in the theater, it hadn’t been this quiet in years and he suddenly didn’t know how to deal with it all. Five appeared in a flash of blue and a crackle of sound next to him, pressing his hands against the gunshot with determined force, drawing a loud wail out of Klaus’ lungs as his vision blurred with a new wave of pained tears.

“Klaus!” Diego cried as he bounded up the stairs to the stage, crashing to his knees next to them, his face twisted in some unidentifiable emotion. “Klaus, _Jesus_ , just stay with us, okay? You’re going to be f-fine.”

Klaus couldn’t help but laugh at that, knowing he sounded mad, staring at Ben where he settled next to his head out of Five’s way, staring past him at the domed skylight and the moon which looked so big tonight. “Fine?” he giggled shakily. “We don’t have a house. Five doesn’t exist, you’re wanted for murder, and I bet Vanya’s wanted now too. Allison can’t talk anymore, and Luther is still as much of a jackass as ever, and if you take me to the hospital they’re going to want to know how and why I got shot. Nothing about this is _fine_ , D.”

“We knew going into this mess that there might be... casualties.” That was Luther, and Klaus laughed harder, letting the tears try and carry away the waves of pain which washed through him, taking in the expressions of the siblings he could see -- anger, outrage, horror, guilt, fear. Too many emotions. They weren’t supposed to feel these ways about him; he was the druggy, the useless one, the family disappointment. Even Vanya had managed to make something of herself.

“You,” he stammered out, hating the taste of blood and gunpowder in his mouth, hating the way it reminded him of love and loss and too many screams, “don’t get to say anything, Luther. If you just listened, to any of us, to anyone except our deadbeat father for _once_ in your goddamn life, maybe you wouldn’t hate yourself so much right now.” He heard Luther snarl in warning, could imagine the rage on his face, but Klaus wasn’t done. “Besides, you don’t get to act holier-than-thou with me, not wh-when I thought we were siblings, thought we were a team, and you... You’ve left me dead _twice_ now.” He heard a soft gasp from Allison, wondered where they were standing but was too tired to turn his head.

“Luther?” Diego looked up, presumably looking at their distinguished Number One, confusion and terror and rage wrapped up in his voice.

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t lie,” Klaus snarled, feeling true anger boiling in his chest, right above the epicenter of agony. “I’m so _sick_ of the lies in this family. Dad is dead, we don’t have to lie to each other anymore. I’m done lying.”

“Twice?” Five asked, his voice tight like it was when he was trying to keep control of himself, fingers spasming on Klaus’ stomach and making him moan in pain. He’d never wanted a hit more in his life, something to ease the pain and the emotions boiling through him, and he wondered for the first time how much he had missed being numb to the world. Wondered how much Vanya had missed too, forced to be numb for her whole life by a dad who couldn’t care about any of their emotions one way or the other, unless it benefited him. He heard Allison scribbling on her notepad, could tell her hands were shaking from the crumpling of the paper.

“Just now,” Diego said, clearly reading what Allison had written. He looked down at Klaus. “You came from backstage...” Klaus managed a nod and a bloody grin.

“Tried to convince our dearest Number One that attacking Vanya would only make things worse, that she needed our support. Didn’t go well.”

“And the second time?” Five asked, voice still tight.

“The night-club. He was encroaching on some guy’s territory, and he was about to attack him with some goons. I jumped on his back, got my head cracked on the floor. When I woke up, Luther was off screwing a furry.”

“But you weren’t... You weren’t dead. You woke up.” Vanya’s voice was shaking, her eyes bright with tears, and all Klaus could do was shrug. The pain was fading now, and he wished he didn’t feel so relieved about it, knowing that it wasn’t a good thing.

“I met God. She’s a little girl on a bike, Vanya, you’d like her. She doesn’t like me very much. Sent me back because she didn’t want to deal with me. Isn’t that the rub? Met Dad too. Told me I’m as much of a disappointment as always.”

“S-S-So she’ll send you back again?” Diego looked lost, and Klaus wished this hadn’t happened, wished none of this had happened. This was supposed to be Vanya’s moment, and they had ruined it again.

“Dunno.”

“We have to get you back home, to Mom,” Five said forcefully, and Klaus couldn’t help giggling at that, and then couldn’t stop, sobs and giggles morphing into one terrible being as Ben tried to get him to stop, cajoled him to breathe.

“We don’t have a home anymore,” Luther said angrily. “Vanya destroyed it.” A sob forced its way out of Vanya at that, and she clutched one of Klaus’ hands desperately, her grip stronger than he expected.

“Because you locked her in the basement!” Diego shouted, his voice too loud, full of terror and rage.

“Okay, okay,” Five interrupted, and he seemed shaken, and Klaus wished he didn’t, wished he was his normal unflappable self. “I’ve got an idea. Just... hold onto each other.”

“What are you doing?” Klaus choked out through the taste of blood in his mouth, as he watched his siblings cling to each other, felt Vanya take hold of his hand, gagged on the pain as Five pressed down harder on his wound, felt the chill not-really-there of Ben’s hands on his head.

“Giving us a second chance. We’re going to fix this, right this time.” Klaus felt Five start to shake, watched his family glow with the same majesty that came when Five jumped through space, saw the moon above them, impossibly big.

He wondered if they would be stuck in a cycle of fucking up, over and over again just as their whole lives had gone, as time itself warped around them and shifted, as he succumbed to the pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Possibility for more chapters depending on the response!


End file.
